


Bonnie to My Clyde

by newtmasofficial



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Detention, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Trans Character, trans!race
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 19:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12416400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtmasofficial/pseuds/newtmasofficial
Summary: High school au, based on "You're the Bonnie to my Clyde, except, you know, we don't die."





	Bonnie to My Clyde

**Author's Note:**

> Read on tumblr [here](https://gingwrites.tumblr.com/post/166572873164/bonnie-to-my-clyde-sprace)

“This is the third time this week you’ve been in detention, Spot, and it’s only Wednesday,” Denton said without looking up from his computer.

“You know me! I’ve got a reputation to uphold,” Spot smirked before heading to his usually seat in the back corner.

It’s not like there was usually very many people in detention, Spot was usually the only one, but like he told Denton, he had a reputation to keep.

“You’re not the only delinquent today, Spot. Play nice,” Denton said, eyes still fixed on his work.

As if on cue, another boy walked in.

“Racetrack Higgins, reporting for detention.” The boy stopped in front of Denton’s desk and gave him a salute before turning and taking in all the empty desks.

“Hm, where should I sit?” Race muttered as he weaved between the desks. “Eenie, meenie, minie, mo.” On the last syllable, Race plopped himself down in the chair next to Spot. Spot just glared.

“So, what are you in for?” Race stage whispered.

“What’s it to ya?” Spot glowered back.

“Just wondering. I’m guessing you’re the famous Spot Conlon everyone keeps telling me about.”

Spot kept his poker face.

“Well, I’m Anthony, but everyone just calls me Racetrack, or Race for short,” Race rambled.

“They should call you the walking mouth,” Spot snorted.

“That’s actually the nickname of one of my other friends, Davey, but he hates it,” Race replied.

“So, why are you here?” Spot questioned, sitting forward in his chair a little. “Talk off your teacher’s ear?”

Race scowled at the other boy.

“Ha ha, very funny. I actually called him out for some racist comment and he didn’t appreciate it,” Race replied.

Spot nodded.

“So, you every going to tell me why you’re here?” Race asked again.

Spot shook his head. He had to keep up some air of mystery.

The rest of the hour passed fairly quickly. Race finally decided to work on homework because Spot was a terrible conversation partner.

Thursday rolled around and Spot was alone again in detention. He would never admit it, but he was a little sad. As annoying as Race was, he was cute when he rambled, which was all the time.

Friday came and went, Spot surprisingly avoiding detention. He just wanted to get home. It was the weekend after all.

Monday afternoon and Spot was back on his throne.

As soon as he sat down, Race walked in, heading straight for Spot.

“You’re back. What’d you do this time?” Spot questioned, trying to act like he didn’t really care.

“Same teacher from last week made a transphobic comment today and I told him off, even outing myself in the process.” Race made eye contact with Spot, daring him to say something.

Spot was impressed. This kid had guts.

“I’m glad you set him straight,” Spot replied. Race breathed a sigh of relief at the acceptance.

The rest of detention passed in silence, at least for Spot. Race really did have a mouth of him, but Spot surprisingly like him and his big mouth.

“Alright, boys. Detention’s over. See you both tomorrow.” Denton gave the boys a knowing look.

Race picked up his backpack and headed for the door, Spot in no rush to get up.

“Oh, wait,” Race said, turning back around. “I forgot something.”

Spot looked up, eyebrows furrowed.

Race smiled before slapping a folded piece of paper on Spot’s desk and turning on his heel and practically skipping out the door.

Picking up the paper, Spot looked at where Race had just been. He opened it, revealing ten numbers.

Spot quickly put the number in his phone.

 

**To: Walking Mouth**

Just so you know, your name in my phone is walking mouth

 

**From: Walking Mouth**

You wouldn’t dare!

 

**To: Walking Mouth**

Try me

 

Spot opened by the contact and changed it to Detention Partner.

Two weeks later and Race somehow ended up getting detention with Spot every day. Most days, it was because he liked to talk back to his teachers. One time, it was because he was caught smoking behind the gym. Spot didn’t mind having a friend in detention, though.

The two boys had been texting nonstop since they exchanged numbers. Most days, they just talked about random things, like school or their friends, but Spot also learned a little more about Race. The two shared coming out stories, Race as transgender and gay and Spot as bisexual.

Spot realized too late the he had fallen for Race. But, he didn’t say anything. He finally made a friend who wasn’t afraid of him. One who would talk to him like a normal human being. One who didn’t care that he was bi.

On Tuesday, Race texted Spot while in English class.

 

**From: Detention Partner**

Make an excuse to go to the bathroom. I got kicked outta class

 

**To: Detention Partner**

What’d you do this time?

 

**From: Detention Partner**

Just come meet me outside of Pulitzer’s class!

 

**To: Detention Partner**

Give me a minute

 

“What’d you do this time, Race?” Spot asked again as he approached the other boy.

“Oh, nothing. Do you trust me?” Race asked, glancing at Spot before looking down at his feet and bouncing on his heels.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Spot was confused as to why Race was suddenly asking this and what it had to do with him getting kicked out of class.

Race didn’t reply, but instead grabbed Spot’s hand before dragging him towards the classroom. He threw the door open, Pulitzer stopping to glare at whoever dared interrupt his lecture.

“I told you to wait out in the hallway, young man,” Pulitzer growled.

“Well, I have a response to that statement you made earlier.”

Spot was still very confused as to what was happening.

Race pulled Spot forward, squeezing his hand. He suddenly rushed forward and Spot felt like he was in heaven.

Before Spot could respond to the kiss the boy he had been crushing on for weeks back, Race pulled back. Spot was in a daze. He could vaguely hear people in the class cheering, someone whistling.

“Get out! Both of you have detention for the rest of the week!” Pulitzer yelled, face red, spit flying.

Race grinned and pulled the still dazed Spot out of the room, slamming the door on the way.

“What the hell was that?” Spot asked, finally breaking out of his stupor.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just really wanted to prove a point to Pulitzer. And, if I got to kiss the guy of my dreams in the process, why not?” Race rambled.

Before he could get anything else out, Spot leaned forward, placing a hand on the side of Race’s head, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I’m glad you did it. And ‘guy of your dreams?’ I’m honored,” Spot chuckled.

Race punched him in the shoulder.

“So, I guess we’ll be seeing each other in detention all week,” Spot said, grabbing Race’s hand.

“I guess so. You know, you’re like the Bonnie to my Clyde, except, you know, we don’t die.”

“Wait, why do I have to be Bonnie?” Spot protested. “I deserve to be Clyde more than you! I’m the king of detention!”

Race laughed, leading Spot back to his class.

“Fine, you can be Clyde,” Race relented. “Just as long as no one else gets to be your Bonnie. Only me.”

“Only you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! And if you have a prompt, let me know on my writing blog!
> 
> My writing blog is [here](https://gingwrites.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My main blog is [here](http://me-myselfandziall.tumblr.com/)


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